Firefly: The Story of the 99th Hunger Games
by IndigoDreaming
Summary: During the 99th Hunger Games, Lilith is a Capitol girl who loves watching the Games. Moonlight is a District 1 tribute who knows she can win. Coda has been training for the games all of his life. Emerald just wants all of this to be over. For all of them, the games this year are going to change everything.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Welcome to Firefly. This is the sequel to a series I wrote a while back called Faith. You don't need to read that story to read this one, I promise. It's pretty terrible anyway. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Lilith**_

This is truly the best day of the year.

The best month of the entire year was about to start. A month where we hardly did work in school. A month where our parents would let us stay up late watching TV. We'd eat popcorn and pizza and glue our eyes to our screens. This month, my friends would crowd into my living room every day, making bets between each other, hoping our favorites would make it, just for today. We could do whatever we want; my parents were usually out all day and night betting on tributes, and watching the Games with their friends from work.

But this year would be the best Hunger Games of all.

It would start as normal; we would have the day off and the whole family would watch the choosing ceremonies together in our living room. Just the four of us, for now. My parents liked it to just be us at the very beginning, so that they could lecture us on exactly what was happening, and what the Hunger Games meant.

But then, in exactly one week, the opening ceremonies would happen. The Tributes would come to the capital, and this year I would get to go. I would get to see the Tributes in their lavish costumes as they faced the Capitol and Panem for the first time.

I had begged my Dad to take me. He and Mom went every year, being as important as they are, and last year he finally promised to get me a ticket as well.

"It's very crowded, you must understand," he told me, "And it can get rowdy. You're just not old enough."

But this year, I was.

Damian was very upset when he found out he wasn't allowed to go. But he's four years younger than I am. He can wait. And he would be going to the interviews with us too, right before the Games started. It would be the first year for both of us going to the interviews. My parents used it as a social event, and thought having us there would make it difficult for them to start making bets. But this year, they finally gave in. After all, all of our cousins got to go to the interviews.

This would be the best month of my life.

All of my friends were jealous, of course. Every since we were little, we had always dreamed of going to all of the ceremonies, being able to see the Tributes in person and not on screen. We could always try to see them when they fist came in on the trains, but it was always very crowded, and my parents wouldn't let me skip school to go.

Castalia was almost angry with me when I told her I would be able to go to both ceremonies. She didn't talk to me for a week, and when I finally confronted her, she told me that, "It's not fair that you get to have everything, Lil," and then accused me of bragging just because my father had a better job than hers. I don't believe I've ever done that. When I asked Abel if I ever acted snobbish, he just scoffed and said, "Don't listen to Cas. She's just jealous. You're one of the most humble people I have ever met."

I couldn't be mad at Castalia though. Her parents work in economics too, but they didn't hold as high of a position as my father. They started having hardships last year, when their parents bet a lot of money on Rone, the boy from District 4, very early on. They weren't the only ones, but they placed so much money with Rone. He ended up dying not long after the bloodbath.

Not only was Cas's family humiliated, but they lost a ton of money. Things had been stressful at her house ever since.

I had a couple more friends too, like Ronan and Parker and Jade and Hecate-but Cas and Abel had always been my best friends. Abel, unfortunately, wouldn't be coming over for the Games this year. I had tried to make plans with him, but he shrugged me off, saying that he was just going to watch them with his family. Ever since we've been friends, which is since we met in First Year, he's been coming over to my house for the Games.

I didn't ask why. He'd been acting aloof and strange for the past couple of months. I didn't push it, I figured there was some family stuff going on at home he didn't want to talk about. His older brother left to go train Peacekeppers in District 2 several years ago, and I thought it may have something to do with that. Children of well off parents like his didn't go off into the districts to go train police officers.

"Call Castalia!"I said before I got out of bed.

In a few seconds, she shows up on my screen, her face ten feet tall. Her, long, light brown hair was already curled, dancing around her head and gliding off of her shoulders. Her makeup was done as well, light green eyeshadow and brown eyeliner around her brown eyes. She was sitting on her bed, already dressed in a white and green polka dot dress and matching heels. On her head, she wore an emerald crown.

"Oh districts, Lil," she exclaimed, "You're not even out of bed!"

"It's seven in the morning," I yawned, swinging my legs out from under the covers.

"Yes, and the reapings start in two hours!"

"So, that means I have plenty of time to get up," I stand up and scratch my arms.

"Oh would you-stop!" she looked disgusted, and I laughed. "This is not funny!" she pursed her lips, making her mouth incredibly small, "If you don't start putting more effort into your appereance, when you're older-"

"When I'm older," I muttered, "I'm already older."

In six months my regular schooling would end, and I would be expected to start working toward a career. Most everyone around my age already had their heart set on something, but me, I kept pretending the day would never come at all.

"You should have been up an hour ago, at least!" Cas kept blabbering on.

"It's my day off!"

"You need to get into the habit. On school days, you do the same thing!" She started pacing around her room as I started to brush out my hair, "You practically where the same outfit every day, and everyone notices-"

"Do people really care about me that much," I roll my eyes and start looking through my closet.

"Yes!" she practically yelled, "Because you're a rich girl and you dress like you don't care!"

"I don't care," I yawn again as I examine a gray dress.

"Exactly. Hera Wilxon things you're starting a rebellion."

"She gets all of that from the way I dress?" I chuckle to myself. Hera Wilxon wasn't incredibly smart, and she thought everyone was starting a rebellion after studying the 75th Hunger Games in class.

"Didn't she say you were starting a rebellion because you flirted with her boyfriend once," I reminded her.

"So Hera was a bad example, I'll admit," Cas shrugged, "But honestly, it's hard being around you sometimes. Just plain hard. People are always asking me about you, wanting to know why you're so strange-"

"Your life must be so very difficult," I'm practically ignoring her, trying to decide between two different gray dresses.

"And what do I say?"

"That you're not some bitch who judges people on the way they dress?" I decide on the gray velvet dress with the red bow.

"It's not just the way you dress Lil, we've been over this," she sighed, "It's everything about you."

After Cas cuts off the connection, I put on my smooth gray dress and tie my blonde hair up into a bow. I dressed a bit differently from the others; I opted for more neutral tones instead of colorful clothes, but it wasn't like I was the only one who did that. And there were other things too, for sure. I could be outspoken in history class, sometimes being on the unpopular side of debates, but it wasn't like I was alone in that either.

Everybody had differences, something that made them different from everyone else. I didn't know why I had to be perfect just because of who my parents are.

I exit my room and walk down my hallway, past my bathroom, closets, and entertainment quarters. I enter the main part of the house and see my father looking down at his portable screen. As I said before, he works in the economy. I didn't understand his job; I never really cared for it.

And then I see my mother, already sitting at the dining room table.

Helen Snow. The sister of the president.

Posy Snow had been elected not long after his father, the former president died. My mother was his little sister.

"Lilith!" My father sees me staring down from the balcony, "Just in time for breakfast! Your brother, on the other hand..."

"I'm here!" Damian rushes in next to me from his hallway. Even Damian wouldn't sleep in late on reaping day.

We both make our way down the main staircase. At the bottom is the foyer, where my father was sitting. The dining room, where my mother is, is just to the right. On the left is a sitting area where we will watch the ceremonies today. Our house is bigger than most, but not as big as it could be. My parents didn't want too big of a house. My mother grew up in the president's mansion, and she said it often felt empty and hollow.

My family sits at the dining room table while one of our servants, Vera, brings out our breakfast. Usually breakfast is an assortment of fruit and wheat toast to keep us healthy. But today we are celebrating. She lies dishes of scrambled eggs, bacon, mini sausage, french toast, pancakes, and waffles out on the table, far more than is needed for just the four of us. I figured the servants eat our leftovers. At least, that's what I hoped happened. It seemed wasteful to me to throw all of this food out.

Today, I gorged myself. I figured holiday's were when people could let themselves go and do what they wanted. I would get the full enjoyment of today's reaping day.

I ate until I didn't feel I could felt like I was going to pop, like a balloon with too much air. Vera took the plates away, and my parents both fell silent, staring down at their portable screens. My father was probably doing something for work. My mother was just probably speaking to a friend. Being the president's daughter, she had never had to work a day in her life. She didn't want to get into politics like her brother did.

"All I wanted was to build a family," she told me once.

I'm used to this silence; after all, we can't all be attentive to each other all of the time, with there being so much going on in the world. My brother was also looking down at his screen, probably talking to a friend, so I pulled out mine and sent a message to Abel.

He didn't answer.

I sighed. I hoped that everything was all right with him at home. I wanted to help him, but at the same time I didn't want to pry. Abel was the type of person who liked to keep some things private, which I respected. But I just hoped that whatever was making him act so distant lately didn't ruin the games for him this year. He loved the games so much, almost as much as I did.

Time passed, all of us still sitting at the dining room table like statues, hunched over our own devices. Abel still didn't respond. I talked to some other friends, all of us making guesses about what type of people would be reaped. It was five minutes to nine before my mother looked up from her screen and.

"It's almost time!" she said with a smile.

We all made our way to the other side of our house, the sitting area, with the broadcast screen that covered almost the entire wall.

Right now, Caesar Flickerman was talking to some other guy. The screen was muted, and I couldn't hear what they were saying. My parents wanted to make their speech first.

"You all know that today is a very special day," my father began, straightening his red necktie, "The Hunger Games are a very important part of our countries history."

"Yeah, we know," Damian rolled his eyes and slumped back into his chair.

"Listen to your father," my mother warned. She sat up from her red chair and stood up next to him, "The games are always a fun time in the year, but you must know the history that goes along with it to truly understand why we have them."

"It is because we can never forget history," I piped in, "If we forget history, we will make the same mistakes in the future. The Hunger Games serves to remind the districts why Panem is the way it is."

"And to remind the districts of the mistakes their ancestors have made, correct Lilith," my father beamed at me. "So you must understand, we cannot go forth with the Hunger Games if we forget our history. Then, the games will have no point."

My mother turned the sound on the screen on, and we all watched as we were brought to district 1, where the first reaping will take place.

 _ **Moonlight**_

I've known that I would win the Hunger Games for years.

Ever since we started watching it on TV, ever since I started going to the training center. When I started receiving top marks and my parents would look at me with pride in their eyes. I knew that one day I would go the Hunger Games and I would win.

And that's exactly what I told everyone. An eight year old with no filter, I pissed a lot of people by boasting that I was going to win one year. I always talked about how I would volunteer, and who I would beat. Everyone got annoyed. Those who trained with me tried to sabotage me, tried to injure me, but I only got better. Even my younger brother, Sun, started to get annoyed with me, telling me that I should talk about the games a little less.

Why should I? I was going to win one day, and everyone knew it. That's why I stopped going to the training center a few years ago; I was afraid someone would injure me and I would never be able to compete. Didn't they want me to bring pride to the district? I trained at my home now, alone, with my little sister. My brother stopped training altogether, having no interest in the games.

My sister, Star, on the other hand, was my biggest supporter. Right from the moment that I said that I was going to win, she believed me. Each year, since I was eligible, she kept asking me when I was going to volunteer. She's ten now, and still years away from the games. She says she wants to win like I will. I'd started to let her train with me. I wasn't sure if Star could win, but I still had plenty of time to talk her out of volunteering. After I'd won, she wouldn't need it anyway. She'd get plenty of glory just by being my little sister. We were a package deal.

That's why she was the first one in my room this morning, jumping on the bed.

"Today's the day Moon!" she giggled, "Today! Get up!"

I laughed. She was so small, her brown hair bouncing everywhere. Her dark hair was unusual here in District 1. Her dark eyes were as well. Me and Sun looked more like most people in the district, with blond hair and light colored eyes. Mine blue. His green.

She leaped off of my bed, "You're still volunteering, right?"

I nodded, smiling, and sat up. I promised her this year, my sixteenth year, would be the year that I tried for the first time. I would have waited until I was 18, and had as much training as possible, but there was no guarantee that I would be able to make it to the stage before all the other people volunteering. This way, I had three chances. I knew it was likely that I would get there first, I was a fast runner and I had strong arms to push people out of my way, but I wanted to be sure.

"Good," she said, with a grin on her face. I saw that she already had a dress on that she would wear when she stood with mom and dad in the stands. Her hair wasn't done yet though, still tangled and sticking in every which direction. She didn't have her shoes on yet either. I checked the clock next to my bed, realizing I slept in and I didn't have that much time to get ready. My parents probably figured I was already awake.

"Go finish getting ready," I tell Star, "And wake up Sun, too, if he isn't up already."

Sun was 14, so this would be his first reaping. Even though he didn't want to go into the Games, he had nothing to worry about. Even if he did get reaped, which was unlikely, someone else would volunteer and take his place. Today would usually just be another day for him, except the fact that I was volunteering.

Ever since I told the family last week, he hadn't spoken to me. My mom thought he would come around, but so far, he hasn't.

I get out of bed and quickly take a shower. I can't show up to the reaping day all gross. Once I'm clean and dry with my makeup on, I go into the closet and take out the dress that I've had picked out for a month.

It's a red fabric that looks like lace and wraps around my torso. The bottom half is lose and short, so I won't have any problem running to the stage. For my shoes, I wear flats that I've been practicing running in for a month for a year. I was just as fast in them as I was in running shoes. Some kids show up to the reaping in normal clothes and sneakers, but I wanted to make an impression. This was my Hunger Games, and I wanted to make that very clear from the start.

I tie my hair up in a bun. Not only does it look elegant, but I won't have to worry about my hair getting in my face when I'm running. I hold it in place with a silky red bow.

Finally, I put on jewelry. Nothing clunky or loose that could deter me. Just a simple red bracelet that is tight around my wrist, and a red choker that my mother gave me. Less is more, I learned, when it came to fashion. The people of the Capitol may believe otherwise, but they all looked ridiculous, and everyone knew it.

When I get down to breakfast nobody but Star is dressed. I need to show up earlier than most people to ensure that I get a good spot. If I'm forced to stand in the back, there is no way that I'll beat the other volunteers on their way up to the stage. Sun isn't there yet, my sister tells me that he has refused to get out of bed. I had been hoping to see him before I left.

I eat some fruit and some juice, not feeling very hungry, but knowing that I would need my energy. I was too excited, I didn't care about food. Finally, around seven, I told my parents I was on my way.

The reaping didn't start for a few more hours; District 1 had the earliest reaping for Capitol viewing pleasure. But people would start arriving soon, other volunteers, people I needed to beat.

My parents look proud, but there is a hint of sadness in their eyes as well. I've never been apart from them for very long, so this next month is going to be difficult for them. They didn't doubt my ability to win, of course not. They were my parents, my biggest supporters. They'd paid for me to go to training, and when I decided to start training at home, they made sure I had everything I needed. This was their dream as much as mine. Both of them had tried to volunteer when they were children but never made it. I was their hope.

I hug them both and Star before I head off.

"Starlight," I hear my mother say to my sister before I leave, "Go wake your brother up, and tell him there are no excuses this time."

The reaping will be taking place in the center of District 1, which was a couple of miles from where I lived. I took the shuttle, which would be stopping down the street from me in two minutes. I rushed the to get there, jumping on a cart and getting a seat.

My cart was empty, but looking back at other carts, I saw a scattering of other kids, some dressed nicely, some dressed for war. I knew I wouldn't be the only one with the idea to get to the square early.

It takes only five minutes for the shuttle to arrive outside of the square, and I hope off and walk quickly to the check in. There are a few people around, just talking in groups, clearly not in a rush to get anywhere. Then there are people like me. People who have their sights right at the check in booth, which wouldn't even be open for another hour. Already there was a small line forming. I rushed over, and stepped in line. I was about twenty people back. This wasn't bad at all; there was plenty of room down at the front. Twenty people could fit, and half of the people here were boys anyway, I wouldn't have to worry about them.

I had been standing there for not even five minutes when I heard a familiar voice from a few people behind me in line.

"I need to stand right near the aisle," the girl said, "Or else I'll never make it."

Shine Evers.

In fifth grade, when I was climbing the high rope, she moved the mat out from underneath me. Luckily back then I was already a strong enough climber, and I shimmied back down. The next year, we were spar partners, and she would keep attacking my legs where I wasn't padded. She wasn't trying to beat me; she was trying to wound me.

She was the reason I left training, and I scowl now, hearing her voice behind me. Last year, Shine was reaped. Her name came out of the bowl. It's a worst nightmare for someone who wants to volunteer. When you're reaped, you can't volunteer, and you can't oppose any of the volunteers. When she was reaped, she knew there was no chance that she would make it into the Hunger Games. The girl who volunteered for Shine, Jewel, placed third at least years' games. I was going to win this year. I was going to win for District 1.

"Yeah, and make sure you're up close as possible," I heard Belle, one of Shine's friends. Well, not friend exactly, more like a minion. Following Shine around, thinking that if Shine won the Hunger Games, then she could become rich and famous, to. The Victor's best friend.

I knew from the very beginning that Shine could never be a champion, that spot was reserved for me.

I stand for the next hour, listening to their conversation. Shine is so certain that she'll make it, I'm almost embarrassed for her. I risk a quick glance around. She's wearing cargo pants and running shoes, of course. She probably thinks that will give her an advantage over me. It doesn't. I had always been faster and stronger than Shine. Always. There was no way in hell I was letting her get in front of me.

Finally the check in starts. When it gets to be my turn, the lady pricks my finger, and I can see my name show up on her DNA scanner. Now it's time to take my place.

I walk, quickly, to the stage, where the few people before me in line have already gathered. The girls were on the right, the boys on the left, with an aisle in the middle. I make my way right up to the velvet rope, getting as close to the alley as possible. There's a few people in front of me, but I can easily grab their arms and pull them beside me. These girls are not stronger than me; there is no way that they have had the same intense regimen that I've had.

The crowd fills in, and I can see the rest of District 1 filling in the stadiums. I try to find my parents and Star, but I can't. They're too far away, and there's too many people.

I peer my neck over at the boy's side, trying to find Sunlight. I finally find him in the back, wearing usual clothing, not looking happy to be there.

I try to send him a wave, but either he doesn't see me or he ignores me.

Clarissa Dunkin walks to the stage, our escort, along with the two mentors this year, Glow and Pearl. Ugh, Pearl had won her Hunger Games by hiding until everyone else died. Not exactly what I wanted from a mentor. Did Cashmere not want to come back this year? Maybe she was getting too old.

Clarissa taps the microphone, and the crowd is silenced. I tense up. I'm ready.

 _ **Coda Fredericks**_

"I don't understand," I pant, "Why," I pant again, and then swing my staff at my Dad. He ducks, but I didn't want to hit him anyway, "We have to," I duck from his swing, "Do this," I jab my staff right into the padding at his chest, "Right now."

My Dad took off his mask and laughed, "No time like the present to get a little training in."

I've been training every day since I was five years old. I thought today, the reaping day, I would be able to relax in the morning a bit. Apparently that didn't match with my father's training regimen.

"I've got to go shower," I say as I take off my mask. I only have a few hours until the ceremony starts.

The cold water feels amazing over my sweating skin and aching muscles. I'm so tall, I have to bend down just to get the water in my hair, but I don't care. I like being one of the taller kids, it makes people less likely to cross me. today, at the Reaping, it will ensure that I have less people trying to get in the way.

I'm 18, and this is my last chance to get into the Hunger Games. Everyone knows it's gonna be me this year. They didn't even both to go over the volunteering rules yesterday at training because everyone knew that it was my turn to volunteer. It was in my blood.

My uncle had been the Victor of the Hunger Games fifteen years back.

He didn't have any children of his own, so my Dad had decided I would be the one to carry on his legacy. I was my Dad's only child. It had to be me, I'm pretty sure the minute I was born, my Dad saw me as his Victor. Mom did too, up until she died. She was a peacekeeper, and was killed during a small rebellion in District 12 a few years ago.

My uncle, unusually, was the only one who didn't seem to support the idea of going into the Hunger Games. I would think that he would be proud of me supporting his legacy, and for a long time, I thought that was the truth. Until one day a few years ago, when I crept downstairs in the middle of the night to get a snack, I heard them talking in the kitchen.

"You can't keep forcing this on him, Drake," I heard my uncle whisper.

"I'm not forcing anything on him Devin, this is what he wants-"

"What he wants, or what you've told him he wants? I don't know why you'd want your own son to go through that."

"You went through it," my father sneered, "Do you think that he just doesn't have the strength? Oh so he's my son, so he's not strong enough?"

"Of course I think he's strong enough Devin, you've built him like a god damn machine! How could he not be strong enough! I'm just saying you don't know what goes down in the arena. You don't know what I had to go through."

"Oh, I don't know what you went through! I watched it on the TV! With Mom and Dad biting their nails the whole damn time! Wondering if their kid was going to come back-"

"And you wanted to do that again? You want to sit here every day wondering if Coda is going to make it out alive? That's what you want?"

There was silence for a moment before my father said, "I know he'll make it out alive."

"Even if he does survive, Devin, there's a toll that places takes on you. One that doesn't go away. Remember when I came home, how I didn't speak for a month, there are days where I wished that I had died in there, I wished I had died so I wouldn't have to see the faces of everyone I knew and died every minute."

"Don't say that," my father stammered, "Don't say you would have rather died, mom and dad went through too much-"

"And you want to go through that?"

"He will be fine. And besides, you got better."

"That's what you think."

I went up to bed then, hiding my father underneath my pillows, pretending that I hadn't heard anything. I had never told my Dad or my uncle what happened that night, and things went on as normal.

After my shower, I got dressed in fairly simple clothes. Just dress pants, a shirt, and a pair of my Dad's nicer shoes. We were well off enough, but we didn't particularly want to spend much money on clothes. Most of our money went toward my training and equipment. The few times I had an inkling that I wanted to quit, to give up on the Hunger Games and just live a normal life, I remembered everything that my Dad had put into this. Most of his money. Most of his time. The guy hadn't had a day off in years, ever since Mom died. If I gave it all up now, all of it would have been for nothing. And I couldn't do that to him.

He left the training center then. His Dad had already gone home to get ready there. He would see his Dad later, but right now he had someone else he wanted to see.

Walking past the stores in the center of town he saw her, sitting at the coffee shop that she always went to in the morning. Most stores were closed on the Reaping day, but everyone needed coffee. The store would close soon anyway. her red hair slid off her shoulders, and she had a cup of coffee in her hand, while she flipped through a magazine. She had on a white dress and matching heels, already dressed for the reaping.

"Anna."

She looked up at me, and when she saw it was me a smile formed. Normally I would have loved this, but this wasn't a smile that meant she was happy to see me. It was not love in her eyes. It was pity.

"Codaaaa," she said, pretending to be glad I was there, "What's up?"

"I'm just waiting, you know, for the reaping," I rubbed the back of my neck. This girl was the only person in the entire world that could make me feel small.

Today should be the best day of my life. When I imagined going into the Hunger Games, I imagined Anna waiting for me to get back. When I told her I was for sure volunteering this year, she broke up with me.

That was two months ago. We've barely spoken since then.

I didn't understand. She had known that this was my future, just like everyone else had. Why had she dated me for two years if she didn't want me to go to the games so bad. Did she think she could change my mind?

This was my destiny. Nothing could change that.

"I knowww," she said, taking a sip of her coffee, "I'll head over there soon, I guess."

I looked again at her outfit. There was no way that she was volunteering, she wasn't dressed for the fight. Anna had always been opposed to the games and the training, I just always thought I was the exception to her her rule.

"I just, I..." I didn't know what I wanted to say. I didn't even know why I wanted to see her so bad. Did I think she would rush into my rooms after barely speaking for two months?

"I wish you luck," she said, ignoring my muttering, going back to her magazine. She had ended the conversation, she wanted me to go. It wasn't fair, I never got to say what I wanted when the relationship ended. When she ended it.

I could stand here and tell her everything that I felt. How betrayed I felt when she left me for something that was so deeply a part of me there was no way that anyone could ever get rid of it. Not even her. She couldn't change my destiny, no matter how hard she tried. Why should I be punished for that.

Instead I turn around and start walking back toward my house.

"Stupid," I said aloud to myself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

When Anna had broken up with me, I threw my life into my training even more than before. I didn't talk to people, I didn't sleep, I barely ate, I just trained. Eventually I got better, once my Dad noticed there was something else. But still, two months later, I got the urge to just train and block the world out.

I guess that was what I was doing. Going into the Hunger Games would be like blocking the world out. Once I left today, I wouldn't have any contact with my family until I get back.

If I get back.

No, I can't think like that. I have to think like that. If I remind myself that it's possible that something will happen in the arena and won't make it back out in time, then I won't have the strength to carry on. I won't have the guts to go up there and volunteer today. I would chicken out, and everything that my dad has done for me will be for nothing. He will never be able to look at me again without remembering how much I disappointed him, and I would never be able to look at him again knowing how much he lost for nothing.

When I step into my house my father is already fully dressed.

"Son," he said, "Shouldn't you be on the way to check in by now?"

"I wanted to come back first," I said, "You had left the training center by the time I got out of the shower."

"Yes," he admitted, "I wanted to shower here, at home. Now go on, get going.

He turned back to the sink, and started to wash some dishes.

"Dad..." I began to say.

He turns around and looks at me, the slightest hint of irritation in his eye, "Yes, son?"

"You know I love you right?"

"Of course, Coda. We'll have time to talk later. Go on, you want a good spot. Just in case."

Just in case. Just in case someone takes my spot away from me.

I decide to walk to the square instead of taking a shuttle. I still had plenty of time, and I knew that I could get a spot at the front no matter how late I showed up. By the time I got there, a sizable crowd had already formed. Several people turned around and stared at me when I was in line. They knew just as well as I knew that this was mine.

I had just gotten to a good spot a few rows back from the stage when the music started playing, and the ceremony began.

 _ **Emerald**_

I want to sleep in, since school is off and all, but Wolfgang clearly doesn't understand that. He licks my face and jumps on me until I finally groan and push him off.

God, I wish I could just sleep through today.

I should probably dress in something nice, due to the occasion, but I'm just not up to it. I throw on tan-colored pants and a purple shirt, and tie my hair back in a ponytail. I don't even bother to shower. I'm not exactly dirty anyway.

Wolfgang follows me around the room, watching me get ready. He clearly doesn't know what today is, he doesn't know that two people from the district would be leaving today and very well not returning.

I look down at my outfit. We're supposed to dress extra nice on the reaping day, but this is just something I would wear to school. I put on my brown boots, for the only other shoes I own are white heels my sister gave me. I've never worn them. I never plan to.

When I get downstairs, I see my sisters already sitting at the breakfast table. This is the first and last year all four of us will be eligible for the reaping.

Alexandra looks at what I'm wearing and scoffs at me. She's the one who gave me the heels. At 18, this was her last reaping, and she was nervous. With Tessera, her name was in there about 34 times.

Jade, her twin, was also having her last reaping. her name was also in 34 times.

I'm in the next oldest, and my name is in 9 times.

Peridot sits quietly, not eating, examining her fingers. Her name is in only once, the rest of us decided that she shouldn't have to collect tessera. We didn't need it this year, we got by on just the three of us.

The future, though, when we wouldn't collect from Alex and Jade anymore, was a different story.

"I don't feel like dressing up today," I snickered and sat down at the table. I wasn't very hungry, but I stuffed down a few pieces of toast, not wanting to waste food.

"They won't appreciate that," Alex went back to her oatmeal.

"They don't have to appreciate anything," I muttered. I'll show up. I'll put my name in. But I'm not giving them anything else.

Alexandra is acting even more petty than usual, which means we're nervous. We all are.

Jade seems the most collected, pouring herself over her school books, as if the next few hours couldn't change the course of her life forever. As if the next few hours couldn't sentence her to death.

"Where's Dad?" I ask, forcing myself to bite into my toast. Wolfgang whines for food next to me. My Dad didn't want a dog because of all the money they would cost. But when we found Wolfgang in our backyard, my sisters and I couldn't bear to send him to the shelter where he would be killed.

"Still sleeping," said Jade, mouth full of food. "He hates this day, you know."

Who the hell does?

It's like this every year. Dad won't get up until we leave. He'll come to the ceremony, but only because he has to. And then after, he'll be happy, and we'll eat dinner together and laugh, and we'll pretend none of it ever happened.

Peridot is still staring at her food.

"Come on, Peri," Jade urges, "Eat something. You have to. You'll feel better."

"Don't force her," Alex mumbled through bites of oatmeal. "She'll eat later today."

I tried not to think of later today. Of who would be chosen. Of course, I hoped it wouldn't be me or my sisters, but there were so many other people it could be. Would it be a friend from school? Would it be someone I knew? I hope it's not anyone I know. Every year, I've made it out with nobody I knew too well getting picked. But each year, this could change.

"We're going to be late," Alex warned, finishing up her oatmeal. "Jade, put that book down. You live in District 7. You're not going to be a doctor."

"Doctors are needed everywhere," Jade pointed out.

"We have all the doctors we need."

"We're going to need new ones someday."

"The doctor's children will take over. Your parents are lumberjacks, Jade. None of them will ever train you," Alex snatched the book out of her hand. I could see now that it was a biology book.

"Well, at least becoming a doctor is better than trying to move up the social classes by marriage."

All of Alex's boyfriends had been rich boys. She crinkled her nose, "It's the only way around her, and you know it."

We walk as a group to the center of town, where the ceremony will be held. I hold onto Peridot's hand, guiding her along. Her shoes are dragging in the mud below us.

"Don't get your shoes dirty," Alex warned her, "Those are new."

After we check in, Alex and Jade go to the back of the group with all of the other 18 year olds. Normally, all of the twelve year olds go to the front, but Peri stays with me, holding my hand.

This truly was the worst day of the year.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Moonlight**_

I feel several girls shove at my side, and turn to see Shine and Belle pushing through the crowd. She steps right in front of me, knocking over a few other girls in the way.

"Watch it!" Calls out a girl.

Shine ignores her and stands in place right in front of the stage. It will be all too easy for me to take her down. Belle stands directly next to her, a protector. Belle is wiry and fragile and has never trained a day in her life. She isn't a threat at all, and Shine must just keep her around for extra caution. That's how Shine thinks; people are only worthwhile if they were useful to her. Ever since I could remember, Shine always had clouds of friends, people that she would use so they she could get something out of them. Over time, people must have realized what she was doing, and now it seemed that Belle was the only one left. The only one still loyal to Queen Shine.

Clarissa tapped the microphone as the music began to play around her, "Is this thing on?" she asked.

Of course it was on. Her voiced boomed over the entire square, especially loud to me in almost the front row. The sound was almost deafening.

"District 1!" She began, "I am so very proud to be here today to represent your district in the 99th Hunger Games!"

There were some applauds throughout the square, mostly from adults and young children, watching. Those of us waiting for the reaping were silent, either nervous or preparing.

"This is one of the finest Districts in Panem, having the second highest amount of victors, you should all be very proud of yourselves, and your children of course."

Clarissa had been our escort for as long as I could remember. She said the exact same thing every year. She was probably glad that she worked for us instead of some outlier district like 12. I can't imagine the escort from 12 would be very proud of their job; coming from a district with the most uprisings and being extremely poor in general. 12 hadn't had a winner in years, not since the last quarter quell.

"First, of course, we have a video to see, straight from the Capitol! Let us begin."

Behind year, the video screen showed the movie that they put on every year.

War, terrible war-

I yawned. Shine sharply turned her head and sent a glare back at me, staring her blue eyes into mine and pushing her lips together. She then turned her head back to the movie, being the attentive little student she is.

The video showed footage of the war the created Panem in the first place, and then showed the districts first rebelling against the government. About 25 years ago, they added a new clip at the end, one showing the latest rebellion, and how it failed so miserably, and how again, the districts had to pay for it. My parents had only been babies during the last rebellion, and didn't remember any part of it. I knew that I didn't want to be a part of a world as warn torn as that. My life now was good, so I wouldn't do anything to risk that. Besides, after I won the Hunger Games, my family would stay safe and rich for generations. Panem had paved a perfect life for me, and I just had to comply.

The video ended showing Capitol citizens standing together in peace, something we could achieve if we refused to rebel once again.

"I absolutely love that video," Clarissa beamed. This close up, I could see the unnatural way the skin on her face was stretched, presumably to hide wrinkles. Today she was wearing a red and white striped pantsuit, with a blue blouse underneath. Her hair was tied into several different knots all over her head, all of the knots different shades of red, white, and blue. Even her shoes were a bright red. She looked like some festive candy, flavored cherry, blue raspberry, and white lemonade, something you would get in the hot days in the summer. A child's favorite flavors of Popsicle.

I clenched my knuckles shut. It was almost time, almost time for me to take my rightful place. There were beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead. I shouldn't be sweating, should I? I had nothing to worry about, my parents assured me. I had been working too hard for this, and I was better than everyone else, I knew this. Starlight was counting on me.

Glow, sitting in one of the chairs on the stage, checks a watch on his arm. He's obviously getting bored, and Clarissa keeps droning on and on about rules of games that we already know. Glow won one of the first Hunger Games after the last rebellion. I'm pretty sure he locked about ten tributes in a burning cave and waited for them to be burned to death. Pearl is more attentive. She won only a few years ago, a pathetic win. She should have never been in the games in the first place. She hid in the trees, and didn't even fight with the other careers.

Clarissa starts going over our rules for volunteering. In districts 1 and 2, we have different rules for volunteering than the rest of the districts, since we always have so many. There's a lot in district 4 as well, but not nearly as much as us. The other districts volunteer just by someone raising their hand after the reaped tribute is brought up. Here, it's a race to the stage. The first person to make it to the stage after Clarissa asks for tributes will represent the district. That is why I have to be as close to the stage as possible; I need to make sure that nobody gets there before me, or my chance at the Hunger Games is over.

"Well, I suppose it's time-" Clarissa began.

I froze.

"To pick our one lady and one gentleman that will represent District 1 in the 99th annual Hunger Games!" she exclaimed, smiling. Her lips were stretched far too thin; a smile that almost went up to her ears. It was extremely frightening.

"We'll choose the girls first," she said, walking over to the bowl on her left, as if that was some brand new information.

I changed my stance, like a lioness, waiting to pounce. I had to be ready.

Clarissa let her hand swim around in the bowl, as if she thought it would really matter who got picked. She knew as well of the rest of us that the District 1 tribute would come from a swarm of fighting volunteers, rushing to get to the stage.

She picks a piece of paper then, and pulls it out. I tense. If the piece of paper happens to be me, all of my dreams will shatter. It will not matter how hard I have trained and how ready I am to win, another volunteer will take my place, and I won't even have a chance to fight them for my rightful place.

"Diamond Clearwater!" she calls out, reading the paper.

A fourteen year old steps out into the aisle. I don't recognize her; she might attend the training center, she might not. She doesn't look too upset, so she couldn't have been planning on volunteering. She also looks a bit nervous, but she shouldn't have anything to worry about if she doesn't want to enter the games. I will take her place. Maybe she just didn't like the attention, and the nerves were getting to her. That must explain her stumble as she made her way up the steps.

"Diamond," Clarissa said, shaking her hand. She then steps to the microphone.

This is it. The time has come. Every single moment of my life ever since I was a little kid has been waiting up to this. For every person who bullied me and tried to injure me, this would be my reward. This is what I would get for all of the year of hard work I put in in my basement. This is for the proud look on my sister's face that I will see when I return home, a victor. For the way my brother will start talking to us again once he is the brother of a victor.

"If there is anyone wishing to volunteer," Clarissa said, a strain in her voice. I guess this part of the ceremony scared her. Tribute kids, all running up to the stage like savages, all looking for their place. She looked waveringly at several of the peacekeepers that were stationed around the stage, as if pleading for her safety. She didn't have anything to worry about. None of us would run into her, all we wanted to do was to get on the stage. What happened after that was destiny.

"May come up," she stuttered, "Now."

A rush.

That's all I can describe it as. A complete rush. I can feel the air around me being thrown back, and I am thrust into open space. The girls around me are running, and I'm running too, but I can't feel my feet. I can't feel anything. I see Shine's arm in front of me, and I try to grab her and pull her back, but it doesn't work. She shrugs me off and keeps running. Why wasn't I strong enough to stop her? I should have been. I see that Belle has been knocked down by someone, but I don't pay attention. I try to run faster, to catch up with Shine and some other girls, but I can't. Why am I not running faster? I should be faster than all of these girls. I was faster than them back at the training camps, why aren't I faster than them now? It can't be the heels; I've practiced running in them so many times, they're basically sneakers to me. Maybe I'm just out of it. I try to use my brain, make my legs move faster, to jumps farther, but it doesn't work. I step on another fallen girl's hand with my heel, and I hear her shriek, but I don't dare to look back and see who it was. Up above, I see that Shine has knocked some other girls down, and she is the only one left in front of me. Why has nobody bothered to knock me down? Don't they know what a threat I am? I guess I should be lucky, maybe they forgot about the strength I have after all of the years I spent out of the training center. And then Shine starts to slow down. She's almost to the stage now, and I'm still behind her. She think she's won.

Nope.

I force myself into her with all the strength I have, forcing my body onto hers. I may have not had the strength to pull her down before, but my body weight slamming into hers should do something, no matter what state of mind I'm in. I'm right, and she falls to the ground, not unconscious, but clearly startled. I'm shocked and in enormous pain as well, but I saw it coming. She didn't. I stumble for a second, but am able to step over her, and I limp the last few steps to the stage.

Until Shine grabs my leg.

I try to shake her off, but she has a grip so strong, I can't. I have to get her off of me if I want to move forward, so I use my other leg, guess where her is, and strongly kick the underside of her chin.

She shrieks and releases her grip, and I'm able to make those last few strides to the stage. As I walk up the steps, I turn around and see that Shine and I had been the last ones still standing in the aisle. I have won.

Peacekeepers take away Shine, who is bleeding and holding her jaw. She doesn't look at me.

"What is your name dear?" Clarissa asks me, her voice shaking.

I can't answer for a moment. I'm up here, on the stage. I've done it, I'm going to the Hunger Games.

"Moonlight Perionx," I whisper, looking over the crowd. At my district.

"Well, you have it!" Clarissa chimes, the nerves still apparent in her voice. "Moonlight Perionx, your District 1 female tribute!"

There is applaud from the crowd, but mostly whispers from my peers.

"Now for the boys," Clarissa eyes the other bowl and walks over to it, "Let's just get this over with," I can hear her mutter under her breath.

She takes out a piece of paper, and calls the name. I don't remember what it was, it doesn't matter anyway. As soon as the boy climbs the stage and stands next to me, a swarm of boys come running down the aisle. It's not as bloody as our volunteering was, because there is one boy who is clearly ahead of the rest. I recognize him, but I can't quite place his name. He ascends the stage, and tells his name to Clarissa.

"May I present to you Prize Devans! District 1, please applaud for your tributes, Moonlight Perionx and Prize Devans!"

 _ **Coda**_

I don't recognize our escort. He's wearing a gold suit with some ridiculous shoulder pads, and his curly mustache goes off about six inches off his face. He says his name, but I don't bother to remember it. I try not to think about what he's saying. I don't pay attention to the video or the speech. I just don't care.

I'm think about Anna again, about the day she broke up with me. Two months ago, I had just gotten out of training. That was the day the head trainer told me I was definitely his pick to volunteer, and he would discourage all of the boys from trying. I was so excited, and was going home to tell dad and uncle Devin that I was definitely going to volunteer, when I decided that Anna should be the first to know.

I called her, and she told me that I could meet her in her room. Her home was not far from the training center, so I didn't need to walk far. I let myself into her home; after years of dating, I had basically become like family there. Her parents and siblings weren't home anyway. When I got to Anna's room, she was sitting on her bed, doing some homework. Both of her parents were doctors, and she was planning to be one too. I always told her that after I won the games she wouldn't need to study or do anything to more, and she had always laughed. I didn't realize then that she was laughing because to her, the thought of me going into the arena was ridiculous.

"Coda," she said, getting up from the bed and hugging me, "What is it you have to tell me?"

There was a hint of concern in her voice. "Don't worry," I said, sitting us both down on her bed, "This is good news. I promise."

"Well what is it?" a smile formed on her face now.

"Rictor talked to me today," I said proudly, eyeing one of Anna's plants. She had kept plants growing all around her room, I had noticed when we started dating, and I imagined she started when she was younger. Ivy hung from her windows and there was a pink cactus next to her closet, which I've pricked myself on more times than I am willing to commit. Today there is a new one next to her bed. There are so many plants in her room I wouldn't have noticed, but this is one of the only plants with flowers on it. Blue forget-me-nots, I noted, sitting in a little brown pot. I had just been here a couple of days ago, they must be brand new. These flowers would probably die in a couple of months, I didn't know why she would have them.

I focused my attention back to her, "Well, anyway, Rictor says that I'm the best candidate to volunteer in the training center. He believes I clearly have the best shot, and he's gonna discourage everyone else from volunteering."

The smile dropped from her face, and my stomach went with it. "Well, what did you say?" she asked, the words spitting from her mouth.

"What do you mean what did I say?"

"I mean you said no, right? Like-"

"Like what?" I stood up from the bed, "Why would I say no? You know that I've been training every day of my life for this, and this is the confirmation I need to know that I was right all along."

"I know, but I always thought you would change your mind. There are so many other people in District 2 that could play, and you have such a good life here. Your day has a lot of money, you have your uncle's money too, and plus, I'm here, and I thought you wouldn't want to leave you."

"Well, I am going to miss you, Anna. You know I will. I love you. But this is something I have to do. It's something I want to do. Today is such a great day for me, don't you get that? This is the way I can make my family proud."

"There are so many other ways to make your family proud, Coda."

"But this, this is my destiny. I always thought you would support me."

"I thought I could get through to you," she whispered to herself. She then stood up, and her voice grew louder. "Coda, you can't do this. I thought you would give up or something, or I was praying that somebody would eat you."

My mind immediately went back to every awkward conversation with Anna I've had before. Where she'd made sly comments making fun of the game, making fun of my peers, but I thought I was getting through to her, making her understand why I did what I did. Turns out she'd been trying to change me.

I was livid, and if I'd had anything in my hands, I would have thrown it at the ground. "What the hell! You can't be serious right now, you can't be."

She was starting to cry, but I didn't care. "I should have said something, but Coda, these games destroyed my family. Can't you see how wrong they are, you can't go in there, Coda, what if you die? What if-"

"What if what, Anna? What if I die? I won't die, Anna, I'm ready for this! You've seen me in training, you know I'm the most qualified."

"That's what I'm afraid of! You'll kill people!"

"That's how the game works!"

"Yes, and you want to do it anyways! You want to kill them."

The room went silent then, and she sat back down on her bed. "I think you should go."

It wasn't exactly a break up, but we didn't speak after that. When I told my Dad, he said it was a good thing, that she was distracting me.

Now, as I look up at the escort, his stretched words reciting a speech about love of our country or something, I couldn't help but think about how I would love a distraction right about now. I couldn't help it, but I felt nervous. What if for some reason, somebody else beat me up to the stage? What if I wasn't as good as I thought I was?

"We'll start with the women," said the escort, reaching his hand into one of the bowls.

I didn't even realize the reaping was starting, I had been zoning out for too long. The escort made a dramatic gesture of reaching his hand all of the way inside of the bowl, and then letting his arm float around the bowl. Whoever was picked wouldn't be the actual tribute anyway. There would be a battle of the girls trying to get to the front.

He slowly pulls open the piece of paper, "Trazor Klin," he calls out.

I watch a young girl make her way to the stage. She looks more annoyed than scared. She's probably mad that she has to walk all the way up to the stage just to walk down, or maybe she wanted to volunteer and now wouldn't get the chance.

"I don't even know why we reap anymore," muttered a boy near me. I didn't recognize him. "They should just ask for volunteers upfront."

He was probably right. Districts 1, 2 and 4 hadn't had problems with volunteers in years, especially Districts 1 and 2. They should keep the reaping for the other districts, ones that can't afford to train their children, where people likely won't volunteer for the games. It's a waste to have it here; it just wastes time.

Once Trazor gets to the stage, the escort takes her by the shoulder and says, "Now, any volunteers may come to the stage now."

It's almost like something has exploded in the square. At least 40 girls step out of line and into the aisle, all of them running and shoving each other around. I look at the escorts face, and his eyes are wide open. Obviously he's never seen volunteering like this in person before.

Several girls fall to the ground, many of them bleeding. In volunteering, you can't kill the other people, that's reserved for the games. However, there's no rule against injuring them.

I know the girl who makes it to the stage first. She probably personally knocked out half of the other girls on her way to the stage. Her name was Brin, and she was 18, like I was. We had fought a couple of times before, and she was one of the few people that could actually stand a chance against me. I remember she was especially adept at hand to hand combat and strength. One could tell by looking at her; her legs were beefy and her arms were large and toned. Not only that, but she was over six feet tall.

He whispers to her, and then speaks into the microphone: "Brin Pastele, your female tribute, District 2!"

There are applauds while the girls in the aisle stand up and brush the dirt off of themselves. Some of them are more seriously injured and need to be taken out on a stretcher. Once the aisle is clear, the escort makes his way back to the microphone.

I only now look at the victors behind him. Draco and Lutra, same as last year. A good bunch, I could work well with both of them. Both won their games fairly recently.

"Now for the men," the escort steps over to the other bowl. Now it's my turn. I brace myself, and get ready to run. Since Rictor discouraged other people from volunteering, there likely wouldn't be as much competition with me as there was with the girls. Nevertheless, I can't be cocky and assume victory is mine. That is when I surely will be bit in the ass. I have fight to get to the stage with everything I have in me. I owe that to my father.

He is faster picking the name out of the men's bowl. He calls out a name, I don't pay attention to who it is, but I see a guy from behind me move out and walk up to the stage.

The escort grabs his shoulders the same way he grabbed Trazor's. God, I hoped he didn't grab me like that. His fingers looked like they had been sharpened into points of some sort, and I was already nervous enough. Why did Capitol people do these horrible things to themselves?

"Any volunteers?" he asked, more apprehension in his voice this time.

I'm sprinting before I can actually think. Before I know it, I'm halfway done the aisle, with only one person in front of me. I don't know him, but he's so much smaller than I am. With one hand, I lightly brush him aside, and he falls to the ground.

Behind me, I feel someone try to grab the back of my shirt, but I reach back and squeeze his arm. He immediately lets go due to the pain.

I don't stop running until I'm at the top of the stage. I don't realize for a few seconds that I've actually done it, I keep thinking that I have to go farther and do more, but I'm already here.

I look back at the aisle. It looks like only a handful of people tried to challenge my place, and none of them were even close to successful.

"What is your name?" the escort asks me. I tell him, and he turns back to the microphone. He doesn't put his hands on my shoulders, and I'm grateful.

"District 2, please put your hands together for your tributes," he pauses for a moment, "Brin Pastele and Coda Fredericks!"

 _ **Emerald**_

My mother loved her trees.

I guess you have to, if you live around here you have to be. Her parents were lumberjacks too. So she married another lumberjack, and had more children that would become lumberjacks. Everyone needed wood, and everyone always needed more lumberjacks. I learned how to swing an axe before I even knew how to walk.

She thought that the leaves on the trees all looked like jewels. That's why we're all named after green gems. I think she saw the world in a better place than the rest of us did. My dad said that she used to see an ocean in the sky, too. An ocean where she would scoop us all up and take us away. Dad said once she wanted us to all get away once, and would imagine ways for us all to get out of here.

We have to start work when we're very young. We cut down trees for firewood, for furniture building, and our very own house was built from the trees. We live in the middle of one of District 7's many forests, and we cut down the land that surrounds us. It's a long walk even to the shuttles, but I love living out here. I'm not scared of the animals, and I think the trees understand why we have to cut them down.

Something went wrong when she gave birth to Peri. We couldn't afford to go to a hospital, so she gave birth to us all at home. Peri was okay. But there was nobody to save her. Maybe that's why Jade wanted to be a doctor so much. Something bad had happened inside of her, that's all I ever understood. To this day, that's all I've ever been told. I was only three years old, but I can still hear her screaming.

Dad was never okay after that. My older sisters had to teach us how to use an axe because our father couldn't. I think that whenever he looked at us, he saw the green jewels that my mother loved so much.

I try to look back and see my father in the crowd today. He's back there somewhere; he has to be, or he'll be in a lot of trouble. I imagine him curled up in his bed in the basement, refusing to get up.

Peri squeezes my hand as the ceremony begins, and the escort begins to speak. She greats us a happy hunger games, and then shows the video from the Capitol that's shown every year. I've seen it so many times I can practically recite it from word. Peri squeezes her face into my side. This is becoming too real for her, and it will only become worse once she's older, once she has to accept Tessera and her name has to be put in more times. Everyone is nervous during their first reaping, but Peri is special. She'd grown up with no real parents. Our Dad was only really happy a few days of the year, one being the second half of the reaping when he knew that none of us would be going into the games. I think the other half of the time, he forgot we were there, and we always worked separately. I took Peri to school every day, not him, and we made her lunches.

The Games were especially hard for him. One of his friends got reaped and was killed when he was a child. Sometimes, I think he wishes to leave in that ocean in the sky my mom talked about.

The escort was just about to pick from the girl's bowl of names when I heard a loud shrieking noise behind me.

I turned my head to see a woman running out in the aisle, screaming a name.

"IDA!" She screamed, "IDA, WHAT ABOUT IDA?"

A couple of peacekeepers tried to take her down, but she kept fighting them, pushing them off. I recognized who she was. Her daughter, Ida, had been reaped last year. Ida had then killed herself by stepping off her plate early. She had never even given herself a chance at the games.

Watching someone, especially someone from your own district, take their life like that was horrific. We had all been watching then, it was the beginning of the Games after all. I can't imagine how this woman watched, how she watched her own 12 year old daughter decide that choosing death now was better than fighting. I knew then that if I were to ever be picked for the games, I wouldn't do that. I would fight, so that they would know how much I wanted to get home.

I shuddered as I watched her mother scream, obviously trying to make a scene, trying to get in front of the cameras, but many of the cameras had turned off as soon as they heard her screaming. There was pain in her face, and her words got caught on her throat. She was crying, I could see the tears from here. She must have known there was no chance that this would make it onto the TV. There was no reason to get the Capitol or the other districts in a turmoil. They didn't need to see this.

The entire square was silent except for her screams for a while, and I made sure that Peri had her face still tucked into my side. I covered both of her ears with my hands. She didn't need to see this. Especially not today. I knew what would happen next.

Finally, one of the peacekeepers got the mother into a position where she was kneeling on the ground, but she was still screaming, screaming, despite their protests.

"MY GIRL DID NOTHING," she hollered, "NOTHING."

Those were her final words before she was shot in the head.

The sound rang throughout the square, and I could feel wetness at my side. Peri was starting to cry. We had seen executions before, everyone had, but today everyone was worked up enough already. Peri started to shake, and I tried to stabilize her, keep her standing. Only a few more minutes, and this would all be over. We would go home and Dad would be happy.

The Cameras went back up as soon as they took her body up. The escort looked a little shaken up, but they still kept talking as if nothing had ever happened.

That's how we were supposed to go on. As if nothing had ever happened. I thought of my Dad, all the way back with the other adults and young children. I hoped he wasn't looking.

The escort doesn't go right back to the bowl, and instead starts talking about loyalty to the Capitol and to the country or something like that. I don't think anyone's paying attention. I think she's half trying to get herself out of the shock of what just happened before continuing on with the reaping, and half trying to rub in a lesson against rebellion and how grateful we should be. What would she know. She grew up in the Capitol. We couldn't help where we were born as much as she could.

Finally, she steps back over to the girl's bowl. She reaches her hand in, and takes a name right off the top. Slowly, she opens the paper and begins to read. Everything is so. God. Damn. Slow.

I hold Peri tighter. She's started to calm down a bit; maybe the escort's speech did help a bit. Maybe we'll be okay, if just for a little bit. I want her to pick the name. I want her to read it. I just want this to be over.

Careful what you wish for.

"Emerald Oceans!"

My voice carries on throughout the entire square, and I don't realize what just happened. This must be some sort of dream, a nightmare, and my mind isn't processing. But Peri's mind sure is. She starts screaming, just like the woman did before, and tightens her grip on my waist, not letting go, no matter how much the other girls tried. When I came to my senses, I tried to unclench her hands from my skin, but it was no use. Jade and Alexandra came over and helped, pulling Peri off of me. Jade held her in her arms as Peri kicked and screamed. I didn't look at any of their faces. I couldn't. I didn't dare to think of my father.

I made my way down the aisle, forcing my feet to walk. I can feel the eyes of everyone on me; our district isn't that big, I know most of them. I see peacekeepers urging me along, but I couldn't move faster even if I wanted to. I can't think straight, all I can see in my head is trees and the sky, the leaves like green jewels. They really were beautiful.

I eventually make it to the stage, and the escort is waiting at the steps. What is her name again? I can't remember. She's been here for years, but I've never bothered to learn her name. Aggie? I don't know. I think it starts with an A. She grabs my hand and guides me up the steps, moving me much faster than I would like to go. Obviously she doesn't have time for my slow and small steps.

"Here we go dear," she stammered, "We don't have all day. Come along, now. Only one more step. There you go, Emerald."

I stare out in the crowd. I see my sisters and Peri, still screaming. I look away. I don't look for my Dad. I don't know exactly what he is feeling right now, but whatever it is will destroy me. Whatever look I see on his face will tear me apart.

"Your female tribute, District 7, Emerald Oceans!"

There is no applause, and I stare out into the blank abyss. Was it only this morning I was eating at my table, only this morning that I got woken up by my dog. I realize that I never really said goodbye to him. I know it seems silly, since he really is just a dog, but in a lot of ways, he was everything to me. I wish I could say goodbye. I didn't really say it this morning.

Will he notice when they all go home without me? Will he notice when I never return? Will he miss me, or will he forget me forever?

I couldn't believe I was getting this worked up about a dog, when I could worry about so many other things.

Like the fact that there was still another person to be reaped, and that I would have to see my family after this.

"Are there any volunteers?" she asks the crowd, and there is nothing. I know that my sisters won't volunteer for me, and I wouldn't volunteer for them. Any one of us leaving would be detrimental to the family; it didn't matter which one of us it was.

She steps over to the other bowl now. I think her name is Athena. Yes, I think that's right. She's wearing a blue jumpsuit with shoulder pads and a yellow belt. I can't even laugh at how ridiculous it is. I just feel empty.

Again, she picks a name that is directly on top of the pile. I guess there's no need for the dramatics. We've already had enough of that for one day. Her hair has cotton balls stuck in it. They don't even match her outfit. I don't understand. She looks like a circus clown.

She reads the name from the slip of paper, "Pine Pentago!"

Pine Pentago. I don't know him personally, but I've heard of him. I think his parents make furniture or something. He might be year above me, I'm not sure. A boy with brown hair and freckles makes his way to the stage, and I recognize him, but only from passing him in the halls at school and in the streets of the main part of town. I've never exactly had a conversation with him.

He eyes me with trepidation. He doesn't look nervous, which is odd. Maybe he thinks he can take me. I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about killing him or anyone. When Athena asks for volunteers, the crowd again stays silent.

 _ **Lilith**_

District 1 is probably my second favorite district. It's most people's favorite district, and for good reason. Much like here, the people of District 1 care about how they look.

Everything is made of glass there. They have several skyscrapers, and I can see inside of every one. My mother says this district is her favorite of hers to visit, and I don't blame her. It's so much like home. The buildings glittered like the diamonds this district was known for, and their streets were always so white and clean. District 1 had such a close relationship with us, some thought that the Capitol should just annex them, but this would never work. District 1 had been a part of the rebellion all of those years ago, and they needed to face their punishment, just like everyone else.

Their escort's name is Clarissa. I know all of the escorts by name; it's kind of a dream job for a lot of the little kids around here. Cas still wants to be an escort, she never quite grew out of that faze. It's a difficult job to get though, you have to spend a lot of time modeling and you're picked out of thousands of others that are all trying for the same job. Personally, I think it would be boring having to stay with the same district every year. What if you wanted to root for a district that wasn't yours?

Clarissa is wearing one of the newest designer outfits, and my mother recognizes it immediately. Cas is probably taking notes, wherever she is. She starts making her speech and my heart stops. This is it. This is the beginning.

She plays the video, the video we've seen a million times before, and we'll see eleven more times today. But I don't care. I can recite it word for word, and I love it. Our history, all of it, wrapped up in a little bow.

I run to the closet to grab a notebook then. I almost forgot about it. I find an old yellow notebook, grab a pen, and sit back down in my seat. I need to make sure I have information on all of tributes so that I can remember them and place my bets. For me, bets are just for fun. But after I graduate school and move on into the real world, bets will hold more, and because of my family, people will pay attention to my decisions. I've gotten pretty used to figuring out who had the best chances, and District 1 was one of the most powerful districts.

A name is reaped, but I ignore it. District 1 will have volunteers. Sure enough, as soon as the reaped girl gets to the stage, there is a stampede of girls running down the center aisle.

"I remember the District 1 girl from last year," my mother said, unimpressed. She crossed her legs, "I liked her. Shame. She almost made it."

I nodded. Last year's tribute was Jewel. Third place.

Something interesting happens on the screen; the one girl in front starts to slow down as she nears the stage, thinking she's won. That was her first mistake. There is only one girl still standing behind her, going considerably slower. She's clearly not as powerful or fast, and she's wearing heels and a dress. But she slams herself into the girl in front, and she falls.

"Never get too cocky," my father warned, shaking his finger.

The slower girl is able to make it to the stage, having to kick the other girl in the face once.

"She's lucky," my father said, "She would have never made it, people just didn't bother with her because she thought she wouldn't make it," he shook his head, "A shame. She won't be able to keep up with the other career tributes."

I nodded. The girl on stage was smiling, but she wouldn't make it far. As Clarissa announced her name, I wrote down in my notebook:

 _District 1 - Moonlight Perionx - Not Likely._

The boy picked was named Prize Devans, and he had a much better chance in my book. After a moment of applause, the screen switched back to Caesar.

I couldn't imagine anyone living in District 2.

Everyting was so gray and black, it looked more like a military base than a place to live. How could someone raise children in a place like this? Apparently those children grew up to be victors. District 2 tributes were always people you had to keep your eye on.

The girl, Brin, who is reaped, looks pretty strong. I say she'll be a tough contender, and my Dad agrees. I know he rooted for the girl from this district last year, Ellia. She ended up placing fourth, after being killed by Jewel. The boy has little to no trouble getting to the stage, and he's even taller than Brin.

"Looks like district 2 has a tough bunch this year," my mother comments.

The first part of district three goes normally, with a girl being reaped and there being no volunteers. Besides District 4, the volunteering basically stopped after District 2. However, when a boy is reaped, someone immediately starts yelling. I think it may be the boy or one of their family members, this happens occasionally, but instead it's another boy. He's about the same age as the boy who was reaped, 18, but that's where the similarities stopped. They looked absolutely nothing alike, so they were not likely related. He ends up volunteering in the other boys place.

I write:

 _District 3 - Flash Inkard - ?_

I started to get a bit sad around District 4. The girl I rooted for last year came from this district. Lottie.

She had been a small twelve year old, and nobody quite knew why she volunteered. Everybody said that she took away from a District 4 Tribute that would have actually done well. Even the rest of the careers and her own district partner rejected her. Her training score was abysmal, but there was something about her that I loved; the way she volunteered with determination. And she ended up proving everyone wrong in the arena. Turns out she knew how to hide pretty well and she was pretty handy with a spear. She actually killed the District 1 tribute, one of the tributes that had rejected her from the beginning. In the end...

Well..

In the end she ended up placing second. I was heartbroken, especially about the way it happened.

Anyway, the District 4 Tributes this year are nothing like her. A girl named Odessa volunteers, and though she looks young, there's fire in her eyes, and she has developed muscles around her arms and legs. Her hair is a red color that couldn't possibly be natural, and the camera zooms in on her green eyes, which surveys the crowd in front of her. I think she's about fifteen. The boy is named Titan, and he looks a lot like the tribute from last year, Rone, that everyone bet on.

Districts 5 and 6 pass through normally, both of them putting up normal Tributes. I didn't think it was likely that any of them would survive the bloodbath; none of them wanted to be there. I thought District 7 would be something similar.

Just about as the escort in District 7, Athena, was about to put her hand into the bowl, the footage cut to Caesar again, who started talking about technical difficulties. I saw my mother's shoulders tense up. There weren't technical difficulties anymore; the Capitol had perfected their technique of broadcasting over the years. Something had happened in District 7.

Immediately my mother started typing something on her portable screen, and I knew better than to ask questions. When anything anywhere went wrong, it always worried my mother. Her father was the former president and her brother is the current president. She is always in danger from rebellious people. I just hoped that whatever was happening in District 7, that it wasn't too big of a deal. Caesar didn't seem to waver; he was still smiling and talking about camera troubles. He asked what we thought of the Tributes so far, and he talked about how strong the career tributes looked. Of course, that was obvious. A toddler could have made a similar observation. He was trying to stall, to do something to fill in the time.

After my mother received a message, her back eased, and soon Caesar was gone again with District 7 back in the picture. Athena was smiling and talking as if nothing had happened, but obviously something had. She wasn't at the bowl anymore, and nobody had been reaped. There were some whimpers from the crowd, and I noticed that there were more peacekeepers crowded around the aisle than there were before. I looked closely at Athena, and I noticed that there was a slight edge to her words, like she was nervous about something. She was going on and on about loyalty to the Capitol, a speech that the other escorts hadn't made. Finally, she picked a name from the girl's bowl: Emerald Oceans.

A girl, about 15, walked down the aisle. They had to tear a small girl off of her. She walked slowly, like she was walking down the aisle at her wedding. She wasn't dressed nicely, even though she wasn't a career tribute and wouldn't need to fight to volunteer. Cas would not approve. I would normally brush her off, but you had to be wary with District 7 tributes. They were good with weapons. The boy is picked, his name is Pine, and he doesn't look very nervous. I think that's odd, since he didn't volunteer, but maybe he just knows he's prepared. I write:

 _District 7 - Emerald Oceans - Neutral_

 _District 7 - Pine Pentago - Confident, could do well_

Nothing about the rest of the ceremonies are abnormal. I noticed Silver Winnings sitting at the back of the stage during the ceremony at district 10. She was the winner of the last Hunger Games, beating Jewel and Ellia and Rone and Lottie. She must be the mentor for her district now. The girl reaped there struck out to me too, her name was Normandy, and she refused to shake her escort's hand.

 _District 10 - Normandy Jester - Stubborn_

District 12 came last, and both of my parents rolled their eyes. This was the smallest district, but it was also the district that give us the most trouble. They had started training tributes for the games a few years ago, presumably to try and have more winners and more power. It didn't work well. They were poor, and didn't have a lot of money for training. They hadn't had a winner since the 74th Hunger Games, and currently, they were the only district to not have any victors that were still alive.

I get a message then, as the screen turns back to Caesar. It's Abel; I hadn't expected him to message me today.

 **Abel: Can we meet up?**

 **Lilith: Sure. In a few minutes. Where?**

 **Abel: The Bench.**

The bench was a place in the woods behind my house where we found an old park bench one day. It was a place, that to our knowledge, only me, him, and Cas knew about.

 **Lilith: I'll be there soon.**

I tell my parents I want to go on a walk, and they tell me I have five minutes or they will send out guards looking for me. They want to discuss the Tributes together.

I walk out the back yard and head straight toward the woods. It takes a few minutes to even get to the bench, so Abel and I won't have much time to talk.

When I get to the bench, he's already there, leaning against a tree.

"What's up?" I ask, "Why didn't you just come to our house? You know my parents wouldn't turn you away-"

"I needed to see you," he said.

"Why?" I asked, smiling, "You'll see me tomorrow. At school. Remember-"

"I'm not coming back to school."

The words hung in the hair for a moment before I realized what happened.

"What, why? Is everything alright? We only have a few months left, Abel-"

"I know, but this is important. And something has come up. I...I have other things to do."

"What types of things? Does this have something to do with your brother? Abel, please-"

"No, no it has nothing to do with him," I could tell in his voice that he was lying, "I...I just figured a few things out. You wouldn't understand."

"What makes you think I won't understand?"

"You're too far gone," he mumbled, and walked away. I yelled a few times, but he didn't answer, and just kept walking. I would have chased after him, but I needed to get back to the house before my parents sent the entire Presidential Guard after me.

When I return home, I see my uncle sitting at our dining room table.

"What are you doing here, Uncle Posy?" I smile, trying to forget my conversation with Abel. To everyone else, the man I just called Uncle Posy is President Snow. "Isn't it a big day? Shouldn't you be home?"

"Well that's precisely why I'm here," he stands up and gives me a hug. It takes him effort to stand up, he actually has to press his arm down on the table to help him.

"Your parents and brother are upstairs, I told them I wanted to speak to you alone."

My face fell, "Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes, it's quite fine, I was just watching the reapings today, and a thought came over me, a thought I cannot ignore. Can we sit down?"

I nodded, and sat down on the chair next to his.

"Anyway," he went on, "As you can see, my...condition...it's slowly getting worse, I'm afraid. And I realized today that when it gets the best of me, I will have nobody to take my place."

"Don't think like that," I put a hand on his arm, "I'm sure the doctors will find something. You're the best President we've ever had."

"I know the doctors are doing their best," he went on, "But I need to make sure I have a back up plan. Your cousin, Miranda, she wants nothing to do with the Presidency or politics. And I want to make sure the Presidency stays inside the Snow family where it belongs. And I've seen your reports from school, Lilith. You make top marks, and you're the captain of debate team.

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm asking you," he said, "If you would be willing to be my candidate for the Presidency after me."


	3. Chapter 3

**_It's been a while since I updated, I got a job for the first time in my life. Anyway, sorry for a lot of the grammar mistakes here. I mix up tenses a lot, and there's a point where I even messed up POV. I tried to fix it, but it still may not be perfect. Anyway, enjoy._**

* * *

 _ **Lilith**_

My mouth fell open, and I stared at my uncle, not being able to understand what he was saying.

Me? President? I hadn't even finished schooling yet!

"I don't know," I say, trying to find words, "I've just, I've never even thought of it."

"Do you have your mind particularly sent on something else?"

Honestly, no. For the most part, people did what their parents did. But I had no interest in my father's career, and my mother hadn't ever needed to work. I had just assumed I would figure it out eventually, and here I was being given an option on a silver platter.

"I've, I don't have any idea." I admit.

He nods. "Of course, this can't be an easy decision for you. At least not one you can make immediately. You do have time, plenty of it. I still have a few more years at the very least, but you will need to decide before you finish your schooling in a few months time."

"Why?" I ask, "Why so soon?"

He sighs, "The people of Panem, they trust me, and they are loyal, but currently you have no professional work in the government. When it's my time, if you have not done anything in the field, they may hesitate to take you on as my predecessor." He clears his throat, "That is why I am coming to you now, Lilith. My own daughter, Miranda, she is just not up for the job, and she knows that as well. She'd rather go into fashion work. And you, you remind me of myself when I was in school. That is how I know you will be fit for the job."

Five minutes ago I had no idea what my future would bring. Now I had a future almost entirely confirmed in front of me, if I just decided to take it. And not just any job; I would be the President. This country I have loved for so long, it would be me in charge of it all. I couldn't even imagine power on that scale. I couldn't imagine having millions of people looking up to me as their protector. A whole country, mine, if I wanted it.

Did I want it? I didn't know. My mother clearly hadn't; she had let her brother have it once their father died. My cousin Miranda who was almost thirty, didn't seem to want the responsibility either. But me, I had always loved classes on our country's history and loved participating in debates. Didn't that all add up to working in the government eventually? I just thought they were thing I happened to be interested in, I didn't think of actually making a career out of it. But then again, what else would I want to do?

All of that power, it did seem wonderful, but I couldn't help but be scared. I couldn't even wrap my mind around everything that I would be in charge of. I thought of all the protection that was around me, just to keep me safe, and I was just the president's niece. How much danger was my uncle in all the time? He could never go anywhere without guards, and the president's house had over a hundred people working surveillance all of the time. Although most of the people in the Capitol were loyal, there were always people going against the power. During the rebellion twenty five years ago, there were rebels from the Capitol as well. My grandfather had nearly been killed then. Could I handle a rebellion like my grandfather did?

I didn't think that I could. When I hear about how my grandfather was able to thwart an entire rebellion, I was always in awe of the story and his power. It was always like a magic tale; a story of a superhero saving a city. What if something like that happened to me? Would I be able to handle it? Would I know what to do?

"I..." I began.

"You don't need to decide now," He put a hand on my shoulder. "You have time. I promise."

I nodded, but didn't make eye contact with him. When we first heard of Uncle Posy's illness a few years ago, we were sure that he would be able to fight it away. But over the years, he's gotten worse. His hair has gone from jet black to completely white in a few years, probably a combination of the illness and the stress of being in charge of the country. The problems with his walking had started recently. Although they had been able to slow down the spreading of the disease through his body, even the best doctors in the country hadn't been able to get rid of it entirely. I didn't know exactly was wrong with my uncle; I'd only heard this when eavesdropping on my parent's conversations. I'd never heard of anyone else having the same deteriorating condition.

"I just need some time," I admitted, trying not to catch his gaze. "This is a lot to think about."

"And I completely understand. I wouldn't be asking you like this if it was not desperate. If you choose to turn this down, I understand. But I need to know soon, so I can find another predecessor. I hope you understand, Lilith."

"I do." I gulped.

He balanced himself on the chair, trying to stand up, "I believe in you, Lilith. You can handle this job, I know you can. Don't ever doubt your own power, and don't ever doubt your own instinct. I think that you have the ability to run this country in a way that will make you and your grandfather proud, but if you do not feel that it is your destiny, only you can know that."

"I just don't even know what I would have to do," I said, "I have no idea what the job entails, what I'll have to do, or how to run a country-"

"I will help you," he says, comforting me, "I won't leave you hanging, trust me," he winks.

His guards enter the room then, along with my parents. They talk for a moment before departing, my uncle looking back at me and winking before going.

"Well you said yes, right? Please tell me you said yes? Come on Lil tell me-"

"I told him I needed time," I groaned, leaning back on my bed. On the other side of the screen in my room, Castalia was freaking out.

"You need time? Lilith, you'll be the most powerful person in the country. You'll be in charge of the Hunger Games. It's basically a dream job. What do you have to think about?"

"It's a lot of responsibility."

"Everything is a lot of responsibility, and who better to run the country than you? You're first in our class! You're the president of like five different clubs! You clearly have your life together."

"What about what you were saying this morning about my clothing an attitude making me unpopular," I cross my legs.

She waves her hand in front of her face, "Not important. Once you become president, all of your weird quirks will become admirable quirks. When you become president, everyone will want to dress like you." She makes a face then, obviously thinking about how the fashion will change when I become president. "On second thought, can I be your stylist?"

"I thought you wanted to be an escort?"

"Because I never thought I'd have the opportunity to be stylist for the president. You'll be the first female president in a while. You'd basically control the fashion for the entire country, which means that if I'm your stylist, I control the fashion for the country. Think about it-"

I didn't think about it. She continued rambling on while my mind shifted to Abel. What he had said to me earlier, even with my uncle's proposal, I couldn't get it out of my head.

You're too far gone.

You wouldn't understand.

I had never seen Abel like that. He'd never hold something back from me; we were best friends, after all. All I wanted to do was talk to him about this news, but I had a feeling that even if I did get a hold of him, he would not react happily.

"Do you know what's up with Abel?" I ask, interrupting Cas.

She looks stunned, and then shakes her head. "No. I have no idea. Been acting pretty weird, if you ask me."

"I saw him today, but only for a minute," I said, "He was so strange, talking about how I was too far gone and wouldn't understand him. He said he was dropping out of school."

"What?" She looked astonished, "Like his brother?"

"That's what he told me."

She shook her head, "It's a shame really. He always seemed angry that his brother ran off to District 2. I would never imagine him doing the same. The horror his parents must be going through..."

"We don't know if he's going to District 2," I said, "He never mentioned that. He just said he was dropping out of school."

"Well, what other reason would he have to drop out of school," she began to examine her nails, "He was doing pretty well, and we only have a few months left. I think he's following in his brother's footsteps. Oh, his family's reputation must be ruined now. Losing both of their children to such a low level job, I would never put my parents through that."

I tried not to roll her eyes. Castalia's parents would rather her go into business or economics like them instead of being an escort or a stylist. Of course, I guess that wasn't as bad as your child going off to be a peacekeeper, training in the districts of all places.

"Why do we even hate that job so much?" I ask. "I mean, we need peacekeepers in order to keep this country going, don't we? They offer protection and order."

"See, that's you thinking like a president." She winked at me. "Let me offer you advice from your stylist. Peacekeepers are mostly people from the Districts. People from District 2, particularly. Even though we are close with that district, they aren't us, they are not the Capitol, and they have still betrayed us countless times. Why would someone who lives here want to have a job of someone from the districts? It's practically choosing to dehumanize yourself! I don't understand it at all. Enjoy your life here, don't lower yourself like that."

"So you really think that's what Abel left to do," I whispered, "You think he's going to be a peacekeeper? Work in the districts?"

"That would be my guess," I see her reapplying green lip gloss, "In my opinion, he's always seemed like a little bit of a loose cannon, don't you think?"

No, I didn't think so at all, but I didn't say that. I didn't particularly want to get in an argument.

She must see that I'm upset, and she sighs. "Listen, Lilith, he's my friend too. And I...I know I come off as harsh, but really, that's how I show concern." She crinkled her face, as if trying to forget that brief moment of almost-kindness. "So, what did you think of the reapings? I'm betting on District 4 girl or District 2 boy. I kind of like the boy from three as an underdog, but I don't know if he'll be able to make it."

I grinned, liking having something else to talk about, "I liked those people too. The girl from District 2 is tough."

"Yeah, they're all tough, but they always seem the same too. We have another lousy career this year too. That girl from District 1, did you see her? Heels and a dress? Like she arrived for a fashion show? Like, come on. I commend her fashion, but this is not the time. She made it by pure luck. She'll be lucky to survive the bloodbath.

I agreed. I couldn't imagine going through that. But I wasn't from the districts, my ancestors didn't break the laws, so I didn't need to think about it.

* * *

 _ **Moonlight**_

I've only seen the Hall of Victors in Town Hall a few times. Through almost 100 years of the Hunger Games, we've had exactly 18 victors. District 2 beats us with 3, and District 4 has 13. Basically, a career tribute has over half a chance of winning. In a month, my face will be added to this hall.

I'm guided down by peacekeepers, Prize next to me. They crowd around us, as if we'll try to run around. They must be new. We want this.

I see the face of Pearl, most recently added, and Glow next to hers. I see Cashmere's portrait, and hers has a special red frame, since she won twice. Her brothers is next to hers; she had to kill him herself in order to win the 75th Games. Soon, my picture will be added to this wall, securing my place in the legacy forever.

My dreams were finally coming through. Nobody could take this away from me now. I would live in elegant buildings and never have to worry about work a day in my life. I would go to parties in the Capitol, and be friends with the other victors. I would wear beautiful dresses, and never have to worry about training anything ever again. My siblings could live off of me, and my parents would be able to retire early. For generations, people would remember me, whispering my name, remembering the greatest champion of the Hunger Games that ever lived. I would not only be a victor; I would be an absolute legend. People would remark at how well-trained I was, how talented I was at fighting. Children would look up to me, and imitate me when playing the games in childhood. Maybe they would even write books about me. When people thought of the Hunger Games, they would picture my face.

Of course, I had a few more things I had to iron out before then. First, I needed to get used to the weapons at the Capitol training center. They might be a little different than the one's I practiced with at home. I also had to figure out what happened to me at the reaping. I almost didn't become the volunteer. I'm sure it's just a shock thing that I needed to figure out, and a mentor could probably help me.

"Your highness, your heel is broken," I hear Prize mutter beside me.

I glare at him. The heel must have broken when I kicked Shine in the face. No matter, I had plenty of other pairs of shoes at home, and after I won, I would be able to afford a different pair of heels for the rest of my life. After all, I had gotten the spot in heels in a dress, while he had needed to wear training gear. Now who had the most talent? Shouldn't he be respecting me anyway? We're both careers, and we'll be working together in the games anyway.

"You better drop the attitude in training," I say back, "The other careers wouldn't like us to be bickering the entire time."

He snorts, "Yeah, right. Like you'll be working with us."

I'm taken aback by the comment. Of course I would be working with them, after all, didn't the careers work together most of the time? Last year was different, the girl from district four did not appear to be on the same level as the other careers, and she would have dragged them down. But me, I was just as good as them. No, that's not true. I was better than them. What the hell was Prize's problem? Was he intimidated by me, was that it? Was he afraid that I would win over him? Well, he should be, because it would be me taking home the prize. If he was going to continue acting like this, it would be him that would be left out of the career group. I'm sure the other tributes would come to their senses. I didn't know a lot about Prize, since i had been out of the training group for so long, but I'm sure he wasn't very well liked.

"I'd watch what you say," I glance at him. He's not looking at me; he's looking straight ahead. He's seemed to put me entirely out of his mind altogether. Intimidated. That's what it was. He must have known a bit about me, and he was scared.

The Peacekeepers lead us into rooms across the hall from each other. My room is ordained with red and gold stylings, and some of the prints on the walls look Chinese. I sit on a red velvet couch, but then stand up again, not wanting to ruin everything. I barely have a moment to myself before my family rushes in.

My sister looks how I would expect. Her eyes are bright and she looks at me in awe. She rushes forward and pushes me into a hug. My brother sulks in a corner, trying to look disinterested, but a see a hint of concern on his face. I wonder why that is. However, nothing could prepare me for my parents.

They look at me in absolute horror.

"Mom, Dad..." I say, pulling Starlight off of me. "What's going on?"

My mother bursts into tears and wraps her arms around me, while my Dad looks down at the ground. I can see his knees shaking.

"You can tell them," she says, choking between sobs, "Tell them you take it back. You don't want to volunteer anymore, you have to-"

"She can't," my brother spits out. I can hear the bitterness in his voice, "It's against the rules. She can't take it back now. It's too late."

My father leans against the wall and sits down.

What the hell was going on?

"You're freaking me out," I said, pushing my Mom away from me so that I can look at her. "Is this some last minute apprehension? Because you guys, I can do it, you know I can. That's what you've always told me. I'll be fine."

"We didn't think you'd actually be able to...Be able to..." My mom breaks down crying again. My sister, off to the side, looks confused.

"What?" I said.

"They didn't think you'd actually be good enough to get the volunteer spot," My brother fills in the blanks. He seems like he's trying to hold back tears himself. "They thought someone would beat you."

"Why would you think that?" I ask, confused, "You always said I was the best out of everyone, that's what you told me-"

"It's a lie! Did you see it? Oh my god, they've been lying for years-"

"Sunlight, stop it!" My father yells.

"No, I will not stop," my brother sneers at my father, "I should have said this a long ass time ago."

"I don't get what you're saying," I said, "I'm a master of weapons, I'm a trained athlete, I'm better than anyone else in the training center, you told me so."

"All lies! How could you not see Moon? Were you just so blinded by this need to be in the games you didn't see what was right in front of you?"

"You're wrong," I crinkle my nose, "I've been training for years. I have excellent aim in throwing knives and spears. I can lift double my body weight-"

"That's not even possible!" He screams, "Dad lied to you about the weight-"

"And I can run a four minute mile-"

"Seven minutes," my brother corrects.

I pause, "What, no, four minutes."

"Did you ever try counting yourself, or keeping your own time?" My brother seems mostly annoyed at this point.

"What are you talking about?" I throw my hands up in the air, "Dad always told me-"

"Dad always lied about you abut your time so you would you think did better than you actually did."

"That's impossible." I look at my father, and he looks away from me.

A dark pit in my stomach grows and consumes me.

It's true.

So, he lied about the running to make me feel better. That may explain why I wasn't as fast as the other girls at the reaping. But there were so many other things...

I thought about how when I would practice with arrows and spears that I never actually saw them hit my targets; they were too far away. But my parents always told me that I hit them spot on. I always beat my Dad in fights, but there were times when I felt it was too easy. I just thought it meant that I was so much better than him that it was easy. Sometimes my miles did feel long, and that I hadn't done as many push ups or lifted as much weight as my Dad said I did...

"We just didn't want to break your heart," my Mom whimpers, "We thought you wouldn't be able to be the volunteer."

"But training," I remember being better than everyone back in training.

"The kids would always let you win and make fun of you," my Dad explained, his face in his hands. "That's why we took you out. But you wanted to keep training so badly, we built the training center in the basement for you. We never-We never meant for it to go this far. It just happened."

The world spins, and as reality settles on me, I collapse.

I can barely remember my family being taken from me. I had just fainted, and was still out of it. I remember my mother's tears, my sister's confusion, my brother's pity, and my father just repeating "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I fall asleep again, and when I wake up, I'm already on the train. It's night; we won't reach the Capitol until sometime tomorrow afternoon, I think.

The room is small with wood paneling, and there's a large window next to my bed. I peer out and I see the countryside whip past me. I can barely feel the movement.

They didn't bother changing me out of my clothes. I'm still wearing my reaping dress, stained with blood and dirt, and the heels, one heel broken.

The reapings are on TV. Right now it's District 7. The broadcast cuts out for a second. I wonder why that is. I see a girl with brown hair and work boots reaped.

I wonder if she has better chances than I do.

I shudder. I feel as though if I think about the events of today I may faint again. I'm a bit hungry, but I don't want to go exploring the train. Knowing what I know now, I would just be embarrassed. They knew I was inadequate, and I just couldn't see it.

Instead I decide to take a shower, rubbing the sweat and dirt and blood off of me. I toss the dress and the heels in the trash; I never want to see them again. I spend far too much time in the shower, where the tears come. I can't help it. My life has been crushed in mere minutes; entire years of my life have been nothing but lies. I had been fooling myself, and everyone could see it, even my own brother. Everyone must think I'm an idiot. I think I'm an idiot.

After I'm clean, I opt to put on a gray dull nightgown that I found in the closet. It fits me, though I don't know how they would know. When I get back into bed, I see that my reaping is on.

Why didn't I see it before?

I'm behind most people, God, I look so weak. I can't even push off anyone. Nobody is even trying to knock me down. I grab the remote and turn off the screen.

I am going to die in the Hunger Games.

* * *

 ** _Coda_**

Brin Pastele once nearly killed Rictor in training, I remembered now. They were practicing some hand to hand combat, and Rictor made a comment about how she needed to fix her stance to allow her to have more balance on her feet.

Less than two seconds later, she had him in a headlock, and it took twelve people to pull her off of him. She almost got banned from training, until the mayor realized she would be a great competitor anyway. A guaranteed win in the Hunger Games was worth to the risk to their lives.

That was years ago. She was twelve. I had been on the other side of the room, watching the fight from afar.

So now, even as I stand miles away from the games, standing next to Brin made me feel as if I were in danger. She, like myself, had waited until the last possible year to try for the games, making sure their strength was at peak condition. If there was anyone that had been more of a machine than I was, it was her.

She said nothing as Peacekeepers walked us down the hall. I wondered who her parents were. My father was the brother of a victor, and my mother was a Peacekeeper; she always valued power and the government. I knew nothing of her at all, only of what she could destroy. Her eyes were focused completely ahead of her, walking as if she were the only one in the hallway. As if she weren't followed by government officials and a person who, in two weeks, would be pitted against her in a game to survive.

I took a deep breath, and she flinched, as if my bodily functions were disrupting to her. I am sure that we would probably end up in an alliance together, as the strongest usually did, but she didn't seem to be interested in building bridges anytime soon. Speaking of breathing, was she even breathing? I didn't see the rise and fall of her chest, was she holding her breath? I looked back at the peacekeepers, and I realized that I couldn't see their chests rising and falling either. Could you see anyone breath while they were walking? I had never thought of it before. I tried to think of other people walking, and couldn't put a picture together in my head. Of course, people breathed while they walked, and I could remember people heavily breathing after running, but in any other circumstance, I couldn't put a picture together in his head. I looked down at himself. Could I see myself breathing? Of course I was breathing; I felt it, I controlled it. But when I was walking, my body was already moving, and the motion of breathing got lost. If I breathed really heavily, I could see it. I turned over at Brin again, and I could saw a slight movement of her chest.

Why was I thinking about this?

Nervous thoughts were filling my head.

I didn't even realize that the peacekeepers had taken them to their rooms. Mine was on the left, and Brin's on the right.

"Wait inside here for your families. You will have five minutes with them," said one of the Peacekeepers.

I nodded and walked into the room. There were three different chairs covered with a plush red fabric that was held together by dark brown wood and included stitched golden pattern. There were no windows, and I wondered why. Was it to keep us in? In the middle of the table on top of a gold rug was a wooden table with refreshments. A pitcher of water filled with ice, cheese and crackers, and some olives. Immediately, I started gorging myself. I didn't remember being hungry, but right now all I could think about was eating. I stuffed crackers and cheese down my throat, not bothering to put them together, and washed it down with a large glass of water. I didn't bother with the olives; I didn't like them that much anyway. Green olives always put a bitter taste in my mouth.

The door burst open with the power of wind in a hurricane.

I expected my father - but no, it was my uncle. His beard was longer than usual, and although his eyes were usually a caramel brown, now they looked black. Today, he had been wearing his best for the ceremony, but part of his shirt was untucked.

I couldn't react, or even swallow the cracker and cheese stuck in my throat, before my uncle has his arms around me, squeezing my shoulders, nearly breaking my bones.

"I should have said something," my uncle's eyes bore into me.

"Uncle Drake," I managed to mumbled out through my dry throat, "Where's Dad?"

"He's on his way, but I needed to see you first." He finally lets go of me and starts pacing around the room. His face was white, but his hands were red, and he kept chewing on the nail on his thumb, as if he were trying to break it off. "I was just hoping that we would make it through, that you wouldn't make it, every year when you decided not to try, I just kept keeping my mouth shut, knowing that I would have another year, and now, at your last chance you made it-"

"Of course I was going to make it," I managed to stammer out, not knowing what he was trying to get out, "Rictor told everyone else not to try."

Drake looked at him and his eyes grew wide, "I didn't know that. Your father didn't know that. Of course he didn't tell me that, he doesn't bother to tell me anything!"

"What's going on!" Shock has turned into anger. I'm going off to a game where there's a chance I will die, and this is not the departure that I had been hoping for.

"Your father knows nothing of the games, nothing, he thinks he knows because he watched just like everyone else, but he doesn't know anything at all. Every single victor of those games comes out with a smile on our face, but only we know what it's like to live in it, only we know! They will have my head on a plate if I ever talked about how I really felt, and I wish I had broken that for you, Coda. They always take the kids in to play, the kids of the victors, that's why I never had any. And now...I thought you could avoid it, with the volunteering, but your father...He wanted my legacy!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I'm sorry," my uncle falls into a chair, "I should have-"

My father walks into the room next, examining the situation. "What's going on, I thought I heard shouting?"

Immediately, my uncles back straightens, and every sign of distress melts off his face. "It must be from the other room, Brin Pastele's parents are very intense, I've toured the prison several times. Coda and I are just talking."

I don't know what to do, or what to say. All I can do is nod.

My father smiles and takes a few olives off the plate. "Good. Coda, I just need you to know how proud I am of you, how unbelievably proud both of us are of you, we are sure you will do great."

Behind him, my uncle's smile well into a helpless frown, but my father couldn't see.

"Ever since you were born, I knew this was the right path for you, your mother and I, we just knew. We are a family of champions, first your uncle, and now you. When you come home..."

His father kept talking, but Coda couldn't pay attention. His mind kept going back to his uncle's words.

Had his father been jealous of his uncle? Impossible, his father had always spoken so highly of Uncle Drake. Always bragged about him, always invited him over for dinners...He made sure everyone knew that Drake was his brother. And he always made sure to tell everyone that Coda, his son, was the best at training, would surely win the Hunger Games as well some day.

I couldn't remember when he first wanted to win the Hunger Games. I just always knew that I would, like it was part of him before he was even born.

Maybe it even was.

Two people now, Anna and my uncle, two people I thought I had full support from, now revealing that they didn't want this for me at all. I remembered the conversation I had overheard between my father and my uncle, how my uncle had called him a machine. Why had his father wanted this for him so much? I didn't remember his mother pushing for this as much. From the little I did remember of his mother, none of it involved the Hunger Games, most of it involved playing in the grass. In my strongest memory of her, she was pushing him on a swing.

Nothing about training. Nothing about the Games. After my mother died, I hadn't been allowed to play as much. Father always made sure to have my priorities in order.

My father leaned over and hugged me, and I had to remind himself to hug him back. I placed his hands lightly on my father's back, soft fingers trying to carefully keep my broken world together. Over my father's shoulder, I spotted his uncle, who was looking down, his face scrunched as if he were trying to hold back tears. A few minutes ago, things had been so simple.

I could smell his father's breath on his face. He smelled like the green olives on the table.

A Peacekeeper walked in and told my family it was time to leave. From the other side of the hall, I heard a shriek. Perhaps Brin's parents really were intense and his uncle's excuse wasn't as flimsy as he thought.

My father left the room first, with one more hug for his son. My uncle lingered for a moment, and whispered, "None of us are allowed to say what it's really like."

My uncle rushed out of the room then, and I swore that he could hear him whisper, "I'm sorry," for one last time as he ran.

While Brin and I were walking back to the train, I noticed that half of Brin's face was bright red, as if she had been hit. She didn't show any sign of distress, no tears, only the stoic look forward, just as she had been before. She was almost like a statue, only walking and moving. Clearly, something had happened to her, but she didn't act like it, as if her mind were completely blank, and her only operation was to move from point A to point B.

Turns out, their escort in the gold suit was in fact named Goldy. He had removed some of his makeup, and when they met him on the train, he seemed embarrassed and tried to hide his face.

"My goodness," he said, "I wasn't quite ready, I thought I had a few more minutes, excuse me."

When Goldy came back from replenishing his makeup, Draco and Lutra, the mentors, had put on the other reapings on the TV. They said that knowing our competition was one of the most integral parts of winning. It was never too early to get a leg up on the competition. I knew their advice was true, but I chose to ignore it. As the reaping and faces went by, I barely paid attention to any of them, except for a disturbance during one district, and I don't even remember which one it was. Brin listened intently, and even started to jot down notes on a notebook she found somewhere. I couldn't seem to care less.

Finally, the last district came, District 12, the district that killed my mother. The two candidates, stood there, blankly staring at the screen. I didn't know if I really was meant for the Hunger Games, but I knew that I would kill them.

* * *

 _ **Emerald**_

The room smells like walnuts. And strawberries. It's actually sort of a pleasant smell, but I can't concentrate on that right now. On a platter before me, there are some pretzels and some cheese. But no walnuts, and no strawberries.

I become suddenly aware of the peacekeeper standing right outside the closed door, of how I am a prisoner in here. He's here to make sure I don't escape. That's probably why the room doesn't have any windows either. I wonder if Pine has any windows in his room, if these rooms really were meant to hold tributes. Or prisoners.

I looked around at the decor; paintings of a war she didn't know about hung on the walls, framed by golden painted wood. The room was carpeted by a deep green. She imagined taking off her boots and slipping her toes through the soft, jade carpet.

Jade, her sister, how was she feeling right now? And the rest of her family, were they on the way to see her? She remembered Peri clinging to her, but what had been the reaction of the rest of her family when her name was called? Had their hearts dropped down to their feet, as hers had? What about father? What would Wolfgang think when I never, ever came home?

My family rushes into the room, Peridot first, as she crashes into me. She's been crying for a while now, and she hasn't stopped. Her tears stain my plain purple shirt and she hiccups in my arms. I've never seen her act like this in her life; me and her were the stoic ones, while Alex and Jade were the emotional ones.

As a matter of fact, Alex and Jade both stood there, stone faced, looking at me, looking at Peri hug me. They stood their for a moment, not saying anything, until Alex first leaned down to hug both of us, and then Jade joined, and it was the four of us, bound together for possibly the last time.

It wasn't until everyone had let go that I noticed that someone was missing. "Where's Dad?" I asked.

"We couldn't..." Alex started, but seemed to get choked up on her answer.

"We couldn't find him," Jade answered. According to Dad, these two have been finishing each others sentences since they were born. Apparently that's how it is with twins. "The peacekeepers looked too, in the crowd, I think they went to the house too, but they couldn't find him anywhere, some people say he was at the ceremony, but that he just disappeared...We tried to-"

But she broke off, not knowing what to say anymore. As her words spoke, reality settled in on me. Dad couldn't handle coming here, knowing that I was being sent off to a certain death. He wouldn't be able to see me. But if it was the last time, shouldn't he want to see me. I just wanted to see him, we never planned for goodbyes in the morning. We never thought there would be a need.

After every reaping day, his mood drastically improved after we never got picked. But this year, he would likely spiral downwards, and I wasn't going to be there to help pick up the pieces for the family. Every other time, we had barely made it, trying to help our family stick together through whatever Dad was going through at the time. This time though, I didn't think we could make it. I didn't think they could make it.

"It's fine," I lied, "I understand. Please find him after though...Please. And don't be too mad at him. Promise, Alex?"

Alex's mouth was formed into a tight line, but she nodded. Dad's spells frustrated her the most, probably because she couldn't understand them.

I turned to Jade next. "I never want you to stop going to school Jade, no matter what happens. Don't give up on anything, and make sure Dad is getting to work, okay? But don't feel like you need to stop going to school to pick up extra slack, okay? The trees have always fallen, no matter what we've been through."

Jade also nods but she turns her head away. My older sister's usually didn't like to be bossed around by me, but today, there was no opposition.

I looked down at Peri, who was sitting in my lap, tears still streaming from her face. She had clutched part of my shirt with her fist, and she was still whimpering. I started to rub her back.

"And all you need to do," I said to her, "Is listen to Alex and Jade. Go to school. And every once in a while, make dad a cup of his famous hot chocolate. You know how much he loves it. And make sure Wolfgang is fed and walked, and tell him how much I love him every day, okay?"

She didn't say anything, or move at all, she just stayed there, curled up in my arms.

"We'll be sure," said Jade, who had finally turned back. "Everything will be alright, Emmy, I promise. We'll be okay."

Nobody had called me Emmy since I was ten. I nodded, and tried to stop the tears from flowing from my own eyes. My sister's needed strength to walk away with; they didn't need to worry about me more than they already did.

Jade finally pulled Peri off me. She resisted for a moment, and then accepted it. Everyone hugged me, getting in those last moments of closeness for as long as we could. I couldn't shake the feeling that these goodbye's weren't just temporary for the Hunger Games. We were getting ready to say goodbye to each other forever.

A peacekeeper came in and told my sisters it was time for them to leave. Peri started violently sobbing again, but Alex held her close. As my sisters exited the room, I had the feeling I would never see them again.

We walked to the train through a back path so that nobody could see us leaving. Although we were protected by peacekeepers, they didn't need the trouble of anyone trying to be a hero and save us, or at the very least, try to make a political statement. Anyway, at this point, all the damage was done. The only way to save us would be to kill us. The Capitol wasn't going to reap another victor for any reason. They've never had to re-reap before, and it would just be embarrassing.

Despite their best efforts to keep us hidden, I start to hear a voice calling out.

"Emerald! Emerald! Wait!"

Who the hell was that? Didn't they know that it was illegal to talk to me now, being from my district? Visiting time had passed, whoever it was was risking being killed-

Dad.

I could see him running through the trees, getting closer to us. Oh no. This was not going to end well.

The peacekeepers had us stop, and they guarded around us, I could barely see my dad in between them. They held their guns up, ready to attack.

"Please," I said, "It's just my father, please-"

"Visiting time is over," said the peacekeeper in front of me. "You are property of the Capitol now."

"Please," I said, "He didn't get to see me during visiting, I'm sure he just wants to talk." I didn't realize that I had started crying.

Pine stiffened next to me. He was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

My Dad got closer, but the peacekeepers didn't move. "Sir," one of them began, a woman, "Please move along. Visiting time is over. If you break the law, there will be swift consequences."

My Dad got closer anyway, "I just wanted to say goodbye," he panted, "Emerald, please, I'm sorry I couldn't make it, I just wanted to-"

"Sir, step away."

My father finally stopped. "I just wanted to give this to her."

He held out something to one of the peacekeepers, and they took it.

"What is that?" I asked.

"We need to test it for now. Sir, it is time for you to leave," the peacekeeper said.

My father nodded. Through the peacekeepers, he looked me in the eye once. "I'm sorry Emmy," he said, "I love you."

Two peacekeepers broke off from us then, taking my Dad away. I hated myself for so easily believing that my Dad would just never want to see me again with the knowledge I would die. Of course he would want to see me, even if it was for just one last time. What had he wanted to give to me. The peacekeeper still held it clenched in her hand, but I couldn't see what it was. Maybe they thought it was a weapon of some sort, which is why they wanted to test it. I hoped, I just sincerely hoped, they would give it to me.

I had only ever seen the train from a distance; it just reminded me what I could never achieve. The only people who were allowed to travel from district to district were Capitol residents and people whose job required it. Being lumberjacks, we never had to ride on the train anywhere. It just reminded me that I would stay here forever, unable to do anything about it.

There was a crowd today, but the peacekeepers kept them far away from us, about 1,000 feet away I saw a group of people, wishing us a safe passage. Or perhaps just trying to catch the last real-life glimpse of us alive.

Our escort was ahead of us, and she waved to the crowd as she stepped onto the platform. She couldn't really think that this crowd was all for her, did she? Were Capitol people really that lost inside their own minds that they thought people in the districts worshiped the ground that the feet laid upon, that crowds would really come and cheer for her, a mere escort? The people of the districts in fact even hated the escorts; they were a symbol of the games, a symbol of the death of their children. This escort in particular seemed to be oblivious as she stepped onto the train.

The mentors go next. They're both older and won the games before I was even born. I should know their names, the victors from your district should be a sign of honor, but I don't know their names. I've never even bothered to look at them. Now, as I watch them get onto the train before me, I only see the back of their heads. They both have light skin and brown hair, which isn't exactly out of the ordinary for this district.

We get onto the platform next, and I take one last look surveying our district. Green trees poke at the sky, miles and miles of land that are our forests, woods that I know by heart, woods that I was expecting to live the rest of my life out in. These dreams were simple, but with no way to leave the district, they were the most pleasant view of the future I had. Now, it was time to accept the end.

I can't see my home from here, nuzzled into the middle of the forest, hidden by trees, but I know it's there. I wonder where my family is now, if my father has caught up with my sisters. Did they go home, or did they come to the crowd to see me off? Maybe they're all separated, alright feeling the crushing weight of my disappearance. I can imagine my father, walking through the woods for hours with no end in sight as he has done many times before. I wonder if my sister's are looking for him, I wonder if they've gotten home okay. I hope they all know it's okay to cry.

I turn my back on my district for the last time.


End file.
